


School for Magic of Seduction

by skriftlig



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-29
Updated: 2011-08-29
Packaged: 2017-10-23 05:26:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/246735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skriftlig/pseuds/skriftlig
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry gets a gift certificate for the <i>School for Magic of Seduction.</i> He's not keen until he sees his instructor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	School for Magic of Seduction

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the brilliant and hilarious Cockbook on LJ, specifically chapter 6, section 4: undressing spells.

Harry couldn't believe he was actually doing this. Sadly, George's comment had been a bit too close to home and, while it would take Veritaserum for Harry to admit he was sexually frustrated, it was true he hadn't exactly been very active the last few months. Or years.

He held the stupid _School of Magic of Seduction_ gift certificate in sweaty fingers, glancing at the clock for the fifth time in the last two minutes. The clock hands clicked loudly in his living room until they snapped to seven o'clock exactly and Harry felt the tug behind his navel as the certificate glowed in his hand.

Landing in a small wooden hut, he glanced at the directions on the back of the gift certificate. He ducked under a rope that hung across the exit, recognising the Muggle-Repelling Charms on the place, and walked out onto a small grass square. It was completely empty except for a few benches and a sign saying 'Soho Square' to his right. Four small roads bordered the grass and the one directly in front of him held a shiny black door, easily standing out from the dull orange brickwork around it. A group of Muggles walked past it, their eyes slipping easily over the glittering black and white 'SMS' sign. Harry crossed the road and stepped inside, running an ineffective hand through his hair.

The room was quite small, lit with floating candles around the walls. There was an expanded cloak stand in a corner that seemed to extend up to the ceiling and beyond, and a reception table against the back wall. A small, chattering queue stood in front of the table, which Harry joined as inconspicuously as possible. A man near the front gave him a wink, but apart from that Harry managed to make it to the desk without speaking to anyone. He gave his name and voucher to the witch behind the table and, after the customary awed glance at his forehead, she scribbled his name on her list.

“So, you're here for the undressing class,” she said, twirling her quill. “Straight or gay?”

“What has that got to do with anything?” he bristled.

“So we know which class to put you in,” she told him patiently. “Do you want to see bras or boxers?”

He wanted to ask if he had to see either, but there was an impatient tutting noise from the person behind him.

“Boxers, then.”

She sighed, made a small mark on her parchment and waved him through a door that Harry was sure hadn't been there two minutes ago.

Inside was a theatre – at least it looked a bit like the one in the photos Petunia had gloatingly shown him once. There was a stage at the front and rows of comfy-looking red seats sloping up to where Harry stood. Gold carvings ran up the walls and formed complicated patterns across the ceiling.

There were already a fair number of people sitting down and more were filing in behind Harry. A man stood in the aisle between the seats with a tray of drinks. Harry took one and watched as another glass immediately appeared in its place on the tray. He grabbed that one too.

The lights dimmed over the audience, leaving the stage lit up with bright light. Harry hoped to Merlin that he wasn't expected to dance on that stage – he'd need more alcohol than even that tray could provide to get him up there. He took a large gulp of one of his drinks, pleased when the alcohol hit his throat, and shuffled into a row near the back. The man who'd winked at him earlier slipped into the seat next to him. Harry smiled, but was saved any conversation by the first notes of music starting up.

A woman came onto the stage to loud cheers from the audience. She had on only a black corset and matching knickers, but the most striking thing about her was the large lion mask she wore over her face. It reminded Harry a little bit of a Muggle child's mask, only far more realistic. The mane ruffled as she tipped her head back and shimmied across the stage.

A man appeared next. He wore a mask over his eyes that changed colour from red to gold and back again and a loose-fitting pair of jeans that, to the crowd's delight, didn't stay on for very long. Even from his position at the back of the theatre, Harry could see large muscles and broad shoulders as he gyrated to the music. He was in good shape, and clearly attractive if the man to Harry's left had anything to say about it, but not really Harry's type.

Harry watched as another woman entered the stage, dancing her way to the very front. She wore nothing but blue jewels on her body charmed to cover her modesty and, like the previous dancers, had her face obscured. Harry sighed. This had clearly been a spectacularly bad idea. He'd done it more out of desperation to shut his friends up, than any real hope he would “get in touch with his sexual needs” as Hermione had horrifyingly insisted. If he had been braver, he would have told her he that was in touch with his sexual needs quite often actually, it was just that Hell would freeze over before his 'sexual needs' touched him back.

A second man came onto the stage. He was wearing more than his three colleagues put together, but Harry was instantly drawn to him. Tight grey trousers clung to his long legs, and under the bright lights Harry could see the contours of toned muscle as he moved. He had on a loose jacket made from what looked like shimmering silver-white dragon-skin. Harry wasn't surprised that his face was mostly hidden beneath a white mask, but he couldn't help wondering if it was as gorgeous as the rest of him.

Harry was vaguely aware of the man next to him muttering something, but he couldn't tear his eyes off of the man on the stage. His lithe movements were more restrained than the others' as they danced and he stood slightly off to one side of the stage, but he easily held more beauty for Harry than any of the more scantily-clad dancers.

The lion-woman weaved her way over to him. Harry thought she was moving a bit erratically, but then, two drinks down, he was feeling a bit tipsy himself so he couldn't be sure. She spun dangerously close to the edge of the stage and the man with the white mask curled out an arm to catch her. He dipped her playfully over the side of the stage, running a hand down her body, to cheers from the audience below and a small growl from Harry.

The man stopped dancing and Harry realised the music had lowered. The woman in blue held her wand to her throat and her voice echoed around the theatre.

“I hope you're all ready to get started,” she said to cheers. “We're going to give you your instructors. Please follow them to their studios. First, we have Titania's group.”

As she called a list of names, the audience began to shift and a small group of women gathered at the bottom of the stage. The lion-lady skipped down the steps to meet them and led them off through a side door.

“Eltanin,” the blue woman called and the man in white gave a small nod of his head. He was leaning against the side of the stage, long legs crossed and one hand on his hip. Harry crossed his fingers in his pocket as she read out a list of names. The man next to him gave a little whoop as she called “Tim Nescott” and Harry held his breath. She called “Harry Potter” at last and he felt his shoulders sag in relief.

Whispers broke out around the theatre but Harry looked into the white-masked face. For a second he swore the man was looking right at him, but when he blinked Eltanin had moved across the stage and was walking up the stairs in the aisle. He waved the members of his group to follow him and Harry stared as he walked past the last few rows. He was taller than Harry had realised and close up little feathers were visible on his mask. Harry hurried after him, feeling Tim follow close behind.

\+ + +

 

Eltanin led them through a side door and up a curved staircase into another room. It was smaller and cosier than the theatre, with one wall completely painted as a beautiful garden. As Harry watched the mural moved slightly and a rose bush swayed in a non-existent breeze. The light was soft, coming from yet more flickering candles on the walls. Eltanin stood in the middle of the room and the group formed a loose semi-circle around him.

“I'm here to teach you the art of undressing. It is more than just taking off clothes; if you do it right you wield the power of sexuality, sensuality and seduction. I'll show you how to use spells that let you explore and exploit that.”

Eltanin didn't use a voice magnification spell. He didn't need to; there were only seven or eight of them and they were all starting intently at him, Harry noticed, himself included. Below his mask, Eltanin's jaw was sharp and smooth, the muscles rising and falling in his lower cheek as he spoke. Above his lips his skin morphed seamlessly into tiny, soft-looking white feathers that followed the contours of his face, curving around smudged black-lined eyes. The feathers grew longer and silver-tipped as they climbed over his head and into his hair.

“First some rules,” he went on, turning and addressing them all. “Undressing is an interactive pleasure, so I want you all to get used to performing and responding to another man. Secondly, only attempt the spells I show you here; the School is not responsible for effects from other spells you use, and I am not responsible for what I'll do to you if you break my rules. Thirdly, you'll be trying some of these spells on each other, so encouraging remarks only, please. Lastly, and most importantly, absolutely no wand jokes.”

There were some sniggers around the room and Harry grinned at Tim beside him. When he looked back, he was startled to see Eltanin's eyes on him. The next second, the mask had turned away and Eltanin was pointing his wand towards the side of the room.

Soft music started up and Eltanin's hips seemed to sway involuntarily to the beat. He motioned for them all to copy and to Harry's surprise, he felt the music pull him into a rhythm too. He stared as Eltanin's hipbones emerged and then vanished beneath his jacket as he weaved a figure of eight into the air.

“We'll start with a basic Clothes Removal Spell,” Eltanin said. “I'll demonstrate and then you can have a go. Ready?”

There were murmurs of ascent as he touched his wand to the collar of his jacket.

“ _Fundo Descendio._ ”

The jacket seemed to melt through him, slipping gradually to the floor at his feet to reveal a flat stomach with light dips around firm muscles. His chest was completely smooth and round, dark pink nipples stood out on his pale skin. Eltanin's lips curved in a smirk at some of the appreciative noises from around the circle. Harry hoped that hadn't included him.

“ _Ascendio,_ ” Eltanin said smoothly, and his jacket flew to his hand. He pulled it on and Harry missed the sight immediately. “Now, your turn. Just practise removing your own t-shirt or shirt. Make sure to flick the wand in the direction you want the clothing to go in.”

Harry's nerves returned, but he pulled his wand from his jeans determinedly. He felt anxiously under-dressed. He had tried to make an effort; he was wearing his favourite checked shirt and the low-slung jeans Ginny had insisted made his arse look edible. Even so, he couldn't help feeling scruffy compared to his sleek, well-groomed instructor. He ran a hand over his stubble, then pointed his wand at his chest. On the second attempt, it fell to the floor.

He looked up at Eltanin, but the man had his back to him and was helping some other guy with his hand movements. It was strange, even though his appearance was mostly hidden, Harry couldn't shake the feeling he'd seen him before. It was in the proportions of his slender body, the way he lifted his head, how he grasped his wand.

Next to him, he heard Tim swear as his tight v-neck stayed firmly on his body. Grinning and feeling suddenly emboldened, Harry offered to show him how he'd done it. After a few more goes, Tim managed to rid himself of his top. Eltanin's voice interrupted them.

“Now we'll look at dealing with buttons and zips.” He pointed at his own jacket again and called, “ _Dissuo._ ”

The material split in the middle, the small dragon-fang zip coming apart by itself. A thin slither of Eltanin's chest came into view again and Harry longed to trace the skin with his fingers, maybe followed by his tongue. The jacket flapped further open as he turned and Harry saw the v-shape dip above his trousers.

They first practised on themselves, which Harry found rather tricky. His shirt buttons gave the odd twitch but mostly stayed done up. When Eltanin announced they should partner up and attempt to remove each others' clothes, he allowed Tim to try instead, though he only managed to send a button flying across the room. Harry summoned it back, laughing. Tim's top didn't have any buttons or zips and Harry chuckled despite himself at Tim's faux-apologetic glance at his trousers. Harry managed to get his first two trouser buttons undone before Eltanin called them over again. The semi-circle re-formed around him.

“A more advanced trick is to use an object other than your wand. You can use a simple animation spell with your chosen object as the first word of the incantation.”

The music slowed as he reached up and pulled a feather from the side of his forehead. It shimmered silver as he touched his wand to it.

“ _Penna locomotor,_ ” he said clearly.

The feather twirled between long, slender fingers as he turned around in the circle. He locked his gaze with Harry's and Harry felt his heart jump. Eltanin stalked forwards until he stood right in front of him, leaving just inches between them.

Harry kept his eyes fixed at a point below Eltanin's face, staring at the dip in his throat below his Adam's apple. His body was tense, every muscle pulled tight in anticipation. This close, Harry could clearly smell him, a musky scent in the suddenly thick, warm air. Eltanin touched the tip of the feather to Harry's collar and a few drops of sweat trickled down his arm.

“ _Dissuo._ ”

Harry's shirt opened at the top and the feather tickled the bare skin. Eltanin moved it down, agonisingly slowly, and Harry's felt goosebumps spread over his shoulders and arms. His shirt buttons popped open one by one as the feather was dragged along his chest. Eltanin moved closer, until his thigh brushed against Harry's, tipping the feather down Harry's stomach. Heat spread over his skin where the feather had been and he felt it creep up his neck and crawl below his jeans. There were three small beauty spots on Eltanin's neck and Harry's eyes traced out the triangle they formed, over and over again, trying to steady his breathing. The skin around them was pale and Harry doubted he'd have to suck hard to leave a mark. His shirt flapped open and the feather came to rest right above his jeans. He felt his cock press against his boxers.

He gulped, he finally looking up at Eltanin's face. Grey eyes glinted dangerously in the white feathers and his full lips were slightly parted. They stretched into a small, triumphant half smile.

“Does anyone want to demonstrate?” Eltanin said to the room. He stepped back, returning the feather to his hair and crossing his arms over his chest. He didn't take his eyes off of Harry.

Before he'd quite realised what he was doing, Harry took a step forward. He paused, not entirely sure what to do, then the waving rose bush on the painted wall caught his eye and he focused hard on one of its flowers.

It was a spell he'd learn from Ron, useful for entertaining little Hugo by making his drawings come to life. The rose spun in the painting for a moment, then plucked itself from the wall and flew to Harry's open hand. He thought he heard a few gasps above the music, but he ignored them and concentrated on his wand-less magic again. He tried to say the words exactly as Eltanin has said them, replacing penna for rosa, and was relieved to feel the tingling around his fingertips. Eltanin was standing a few feet away, watching.

Harry stepped towards him, holding the stem carefully. Eltanin's left hand was visible over his folded arms and Harry pushed the head of the rose into it. Eltanin's wrist twisted so the petals lay in his palm and slowly his arms unfolded. Not entirely sure who was guiding who, Harry moved the rose down until Eltanin's arms were by his side, the flower still pressed into his left hand. His eyes were darker now and it was hard to determine where the black pupils changed into grey.

Harry lifted the rose, noticing his hand trembled slightly, and ran it down Eltanin's body. The jacket fell away and Harry felt the rose topple from between his fingers. He knew he wasn't being as controlled or seductive as Eltanin had been, but the music was getting louder in his ears and he was beginning to feel dangerously light-headed standing this close to the man. Still, he was drawn closer and he took another step forwards.

They were standing close enough that Harry just had to lean another inch further to kiss him. His body urged him to do it. He didn't care if it was against the rules; he didn't care if everyone was watching. He was prepared to risk the consequences. He grabbed Eltanin's wrist, frowning slightly at the texture of his skin. It felt slightly raised as he ran a thumb over the area, almost like Eltanin was wearing a collection of overlapping bracelets up his arm. When he glanced down there was nothing there.

Eltanin coughed and it seemed to Harry that he whole room let out a collective breath. He stepped away and Harry felt suddenly exposed without him.

“Transfiguration spells are another option,” Eltanin said calmly, looking around the room as if nothing had happened. “They are the hardest to perform, but also the most impressive.” Harry fumed at how he could speak so easily when Harry was sure he wouldn't be able to croak out a single word right now.

He stared as Eltanin explained the incantation and aimed his wand at himself. The white jacket lifted off his body slightly, then shattered into tiny pieces of glittering dust. It took Harry a moment to realise the dust particles were miniature dragons flapping their silver-white wings furiously. He knew somewhere he should be amazed at the magic – Hermione would probably kill him for not even listening to the spell – but he could only look at Eltanin's face and remember the widening of his eyes the moment Harry had imagined kissing him.

Eltanin got them to practise and Harry and Tim failed to transfigure a single thing. Tim called Eltanin over to help and Harry watched Eltanin's hand cover Tim's as he guided his wand in a complicated motion. Harry felt his shirt vanish and small golden snitches flapped around his chest. Tim whooped in delight.

“Alright,” he grinned, “your turn, Harry.”

“Need any help?” Eltanin asked him softly.

Harry only shook his head. He was already having trouble focusing on the spell and having Eltanin standing close to him would only distract him more.

Soon the air was full of the results of their transfiguration efforts – small butterflies floated around the room, avoiding the falling snowflakes and rain drops and flower petals. There was a pile of Galleons on the floor and what Harry suspected was meant to be chocolate frogs, but in fact was a mound of molten brown sludge.

The lesson was wrapping up and Eltanin was answering their final questions.

“What about if we're in a hurry to get our kit off?” Tim asked. His eyes were on Harry, who felt himself blush. “Can we use _Evanesco_ or _Diffindo?_ ”

“Yes. Both of those will work,” Eltanin replied. He turned to look at Tim and the feathers shook in his hair. “But they are both vulgar and uncouth.”

There was a knock on the door and after Eltanin's, “Come in,” the woman covered in blue jewels stepped inside. She smiled at them, her lips visible beneath the blue designs over her face.

“Lesson time's up,” she announced. “And now you are all invited to the traditional after-party downstairs.”

She held the door open for them, gesturing that they should go back down the spiral stairs. The class filed out, chattering happily, but Harry noticed Eltanin hadn't moved.

“Are you coming?” somebody asked him.

The blue woman laughed by the door. “No, Eltanin never joins us afterwards. No matter how much we try to persuade him. Something about not mixing business with pleasure.” She laughed again and held the door wider.

Harry felt his heart sink. He desperately wanted to say something, _anything,_ that would let him spend more time with the mysterious Eltanin, but he couldn't think of a single thing. His body screamed at him not to leave, but in the end he let Tim pull him away and out of the door.

\+ + +

 

Harry was at the bar. He was gratified to see Tim sidle up to him.

“Fancy a dance?”

Harry nodded and Tim led him to the dance floor. They swayed together and Harry turned so his back pressed against Tim's chest. He let his eyes shut and the image of Eltanin rose in his mind, all long limbs and tight muscle and intense, hidden beauty.

Tim slipped his hands into the front pockets of Harry's jeans, pulling Harry further back against the obvious bulge between his legs. Harry imagined his arse was nestled in the front of grey trousers instead and vowed to come here again. He wondered how many of Eltanin's lessons he could make it to this week.

Just as he was about to excuse himself from Tim's grip, the pressure behind him vanished. Harry paused, wondering if Tim would come around to Harry's front, but he didn't. Then the warmth returned, only the hands that wove around his body definitely weren't Tim's. They gripped tighter, almost painfully, and there was something achingly familiar about the body pressed behind him. He reached down instinctively and clasped the hands close to his stomach. A moment, often replayed in his mind during lonely nights, flashed in front of his eyes. His heart raced at the possibility.

He turned around and found himself looking into white feathers and dark eyes. He stared at Eltanin, thoughts of roses and miniature dragons and fire swirling in his mind. He was dimly aware of the crowd around them but the music drowned out their voices. He saw only Eltanin – Eltanin who was tilting his head and closing his eyes and who might, _might_ be the man Harry wanted him so desperately to be.

Lips brushed his and Harry nearly moaned. He opened his mouth, feeling Eltanin's tongue tangle with his own and the graze of teeth along his bottom lip. A feather tip crept behind his glasses as their heads and mouths moved, tickling his eyelid, and his nose ran along the shape of Eltanin's soft, feather-lined one. He pulled his fingers through Eltanin's hair, feeling longer feathers mixed with his natural strands.

Harry ground his hips forward. He felt Eltanin gasp into his mouth before he pushed a leg between Harry's, bending it slightly until his thigh pressed deliciously against Harry's erection. Harry couldn't stop himself from rocking against it, in time to the thumping music, his cock growing with every stroke. Eltanin's hands were around his waist, holding Harry's hips in place, and Harry willed his magic to flow through him once again and half-whispered, half-moaned against Eltanin's lips.

He felt the jacket pressed against his chest vanish, hoping it had landed in the studio he'd aimed for, and he ran his hands over Eltanin's exposed skin. It was just as smooth as it looked and Harry traced the dips in his lower back with his fingers. Eltanin pulled his head back, looking at Harry with deep grey eyes; his lips were swollen and the pale skin on his neck was flushed.

“Very impressive,” he murmured.

“I had a good teacher,” Harry replied.

Eltanin's hands tightened around his waist.

“Come on,” he growled.

Harry felt himself pushed backwards and only Eltanin's grip stopped him toppling over. He grabbed Eltanin's sharp shoulders, concentrating on staying on his feet as they ploughed through the crowd. They stumbled through a door, Harry walking backwards as Eltanin pushed him further down a corridor. Eltanin's eyes darted around in his white mask to check their path and Harry watched his long lashes leaping up and down. Finally, they made it through another door; Harry caught snatches of a wall covered in pictures, a chair with a pile of clothes on it and a dressing table with a large, wooden mirror surrounded by lots of white and silver feathers before they collapsed onto a large sofa.

Eltanin fumbled with his wand and Harry felt his shirt rip down the middle until it hung loosely from his shoulders. Eltanin's hands were on his chest, pinching his nipples and touching every bit of Harry's skin they could reach. He sucked on Harry's collarbone, licking and biting his way up Harry's neck.

“I thought that was vulgar and – ah – uncouth?” Harry said breathlessly, shrugging off the rest of his shirt and squirming under Eltanin's hot mouth.

“Mmm... must be your influence,” Eltanin grunted, but he drew back far enough to point his wand at Harry's jeans.

The material flowed into a long blue ribbon, the colour of denim and the texture of silk. It ran between his legs, up his body and tied his hands firmly together. The ribbon pulled his hands over his head and Harry craned his neck upwards in time to see the ends disappear behind the edge of the sofa. Lying next to him, Eltanin turned his wand on himself and his trousers transformed into another grey ribbon that fastened Harry's ankles to the other end of sofa. Harry groaned when he saw the bulge in Eltanin's tight black boxers.

“Better?” Eltanin smirked.

Harry glanced down at himself, his cock straining to be touched under his own pants and his feet tied to the bottom of the sofa. He looked back up at the gorgeous man resting on his arm next to him.

“Yeah,” he breathed.

Eltanin laughed, exposing straight white teeth. “I'm not finished yet.”

He touched his wand to Harry's boxers and Harry watched as they sank into his skin and shrank, forming what looked like a small tattooed circle on his hip. His cock lay, fully hard, on his stomach and the ink grew around it, shifting from black to reds and yellows and growing into a large phoenix that spread its wings. Harry could only watch, mesmerized, as Eltanin repeated the spell on his own underwear. A silver dragon curled around his long cock that jutted out from a small patch of dark blond hair.

“That's beautiful,” Harry managed to utter before fingers curled around his own cock.

Eltanin stroked him, slowly but firmly running his hand up and down his length as if memorising its exact shape. Harry shut his eyes – he wanted to enjoy the rare pleasure of being touched, but a small part of him kept wondering. He was almost sure who was under the masked face – the eyes, the feel of his magic, the dragon, it all pointed at one person – and he hoped, _Merlin,_ he hoped he was right, but what if he wasn't...

“Take off the mask,” he whispered.

He waited a moment before opening his eyes. Eltanin had drawn himself up to a kneeling position and was looking at him from across the sofa, his cock sticking out towards Harry and curved slightly upwards. The dragon had flown up his chest and was flapping its wings agitatedly at his armpit. They watched each other silently for a few moments.

“Please...”

Eltanin whispered something that Harry couldn't hear above the growing rushing in his ears. He forced his eyes to stay open, ignoring the sudden stinging in the corners. The terror of it not being him clawed at his dry throat even as his cock throbbed and his heart sang at the thought that it was. Why the fuck had he asked? At least with the mask Harry could pretend.

The feathers floated down, one by one, revealing white blond hair and then a pale forehead. Light eyebrows stood above his grey eyes. More tiny feathers came away from his face and Harry saw the high cheekbones and perfectly straight nose. He let out a half-sob, half-gasp.

“I hoped...” he choked.

“You hoped what?” asked Draco Malfoy.

“I hoped it was you.”

Malfoy kissed him again, fierce and forceful, like they were racing for the snitch or wrestling for a wand. He straddled Harry, shuffling closer until he knelt over Harry's thighs. The black of the Mark poked out around his forearm as his hands grasped both of their cocks. He rocked his hips and Harry couldn't help his own body buck into Malfoy's hands, straining against the ribbons, desperate and shameless. Malfoy stroked them together, faster and harder, urged on by Harry's thumping heart and pleading cries.

He saw the hair fall over Malfoy's eyes, the little crease between his eyebrows, the roar of the dragon on his neck, before his head tipped back and he came over Malfoy's tight hands and hard cock. He panted, watching Malfoy for a few more moments until he gasped and shuddered above him through his own orgasm.

Malfoy collapsed on top of him, breathing heavily and smearing come over their bodies. Their legs lay entwined on the sofa, one of Malfoy's arms was draped around Harry's neck and his head lay in the crook of Harry's shoulder.

Harry didn't speak but he felt an embarrassingly large surge of happiness inflate his chest. He had dreamt, hoped, wished, but never really believed, that this could ever happen. He kissed Malfoy's sweaty forehead and glanced down at his own stomach where a baby phoenix was clawing its way out of a pile of golden ashes.


End file.
